


one too many times

by lovelorn_petrichor



Category: The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, BAMF Eve Baird, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s02e08 And the Point of Salvation, Ezekiel Jones Being a Little Shit, Ezekiel Jones Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Ezekiel Jones Remembers, Ezekiel Jones Whump, Fluff and Angst, Fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants writing, Hallucinations, Hurt/Comfort, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I didn't plan this, I just sat here and chugged out 4k nbd, Injury, M/M, Panic Attacks, Parent Eve Baird, Sad with a Happy Ending, Time Loop, Unbeta'd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-06-03 14:01:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19465486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelorn_petrichor/pseuds/lovelorn_petrichor
Summary: And if somebody hurts you, I wanna fightBut my hands been broken, one too many timesSo I'll use my voice, I'll be so fucking rudeWords they always win, but I know I'll lose





	one too many times

**Author's Note:**

> me: takes an entire year to update After It All  
> also me: new librarians one-shot u guys!!
> 
> I'm not sorry ;)
> 
> trigger warning for blood, death, mentions of PTSD, and panic attacks. Blood is pretty consistent, so are mentions of death. "Loop two-fifty-ish" is when the panic attacks happen, so feel free to skip past it to "so quietly, a whisper barely audible..."
> 
> ALSO! please be careful with the line "The real surprise happened..." there's mention of major blood and death and general ickiness from there on out, really. 
> 
> Unbeta'd.

He'd tried so hard. Ran every route, cut every corner, used every weapon.

It was pointless.

_Loop 8_

_"I'm telling you- it's a time loop!"_

The look on Baird's face was incredulous. Slowly, she placed her hands behind her back, but before she could get a word out, Ezekiel cut her off.

"Y'know Baird, one of these days you're gonna tell me how many fingers you actually have behind your sodding back because you haven't bloody done it yet- and we've been through this at least 7 times now!" he hissed, turning his back to the trio before him and pulling the map of the DARPA facility off the wall.

"Look-" he started, holding the map up to the rest of the group, "We're here-" he pointed to the upper right corner on the map, "-and the only way out is through the main gate thanks to the Beta Giant lockdown. Over here-" he shifted his pointer finger to the left, to the centre of the paper, "- is the Atlantean thaumatite we're looking for. It made a quantum superposition state that affected linear time- ergo, time loop,"

Cassandra's widened, almost to the point of bug-like appearances, and she shot Ezekiel a confused look. "H-how did you know all that? I'm not disputing it- b-but when did you learn quantum mechanics?"

He sighed. "You've already said it. Multiple times. It also explains the rage people- it's affected their higher cognitive function, leaving them with a kill-instinct,"

It was Jake's turn to look bewildered. "Rage people? What the hell are you talkin' about, Jones?"

"Uh," he glanced to the left of Jake, and nodded towards the crowbar beside him, "You might wanna grab that."

_Loop 22_

_"BAIRD, WATCH IT-"_

**THWACK** , the wrench in Eve's grip made contact with the skull of a Rage Person, sending them to the ground and caking the metal in a deep crimson that made Ezekiel sick to his stomach. He'd seen enough of that to last him a lifetime.

She nodded her thanks to him mid pivot, smacking her makeshift weapon into the face of another enemy, dropping them to the laminate to lay beside their comrade. That was the last of the wave- every librarian splattered with blood from someone or another. They had about thirty seconds until the next herd came charging through.

"Stone get that bloody door open- they're coming!"

Jacob let out a groan of exertion, throwing a glare over his shoulder. "I'm working on it, Jones! I've gotta relieve the pressure and move the pipe, but I need two hands to hold the coolant and that pipe is over 2000 degrees!"

Glancing behind him, he saw Baird fire him a panicked look, pointing her gun at the doorway and letting off a couple of shots. They were getting closer. Cassandra trembled with every snarl that drew nearer, muttering a broken mantra into the lump of thaumatite:

'This isn't real, there are no consequences. This isn't real-'

another couple of shots interrupted her, making her flinch, and Ezekiel's stomach rolled. He wasn't about to let Cassandra die- not again. Lurching forward, Ezekiel wrapped his hand around the pipe- his skin blistering in protest as he pulled it against him, fixing the pressure of the coolant pipe. A scream of agony tore itself from his lips, and soon the pain he felt in his palm went numb, the intense heat burning off his pain receptors. The burns were third degree if he had to hazard a guess.

"WE'RE THROUGH!" Jake hollered over the groans and snarls of the rage people, who were now in the room and seconds away from making a kill. Ezekiel snatched up Cassandra's wrist with his uninjured arm, pulling her towards the door. Baird followed suit, firing with one hand and swinging a wrench with the other.

They slammed the door behind them, locking it and shoving a barricade before it. The open-air of the courtyard relieved the heat from the scalding burns on the edge of his palm, fiery agony from where contact from the pipe was lesser than at the centre. Now he could get a proper look at it, his entire palm was red-hot and looked like aged leather, thick blistering coating the burns. The edges were scarlet but unblistered, radiating heat and burning agony into his flesh.

Baird approached him, reaching for his hand, but he snatched it away. She didn't need to see that.

"Jones, let me take a look," she uttered, soft yet authoritative.

He shook his head.

She sighed- her face a silent plea. "Ezekiel, please,"

He gave the same response, his good hand wrapped around his wrist and holding it to his chest. If they made it through, Baird would remember what it looked like- he wouldn't do that to her. He's already gotten her killed, he wasn't about to traumatise her too, thank you very much. Turning his back to her, Ezekiel stepped towards the row of bollards that marked the edge of the courtyard, scoping out the area. The gates were open- thankfully. They had an easy escape.

"Jones,"

That didn't sound like Baird.

Deep and gravelly, Stone's voice rippled down his spine, gooseflesh rising up hi back at the proximity of the voice. From what he could tell, the historian was stood mere centimetres behind him- probably to keep his voice lowered and avoid upsetting Cassandra.

"Cowboy," Ezekiel shot back, eyes trained forward to the gates before them.

He could practically feel Jake rolling his eyes behind him, but didn't care to acknowledge the motion. "Lemme see your hand, Jones. You put it on a two-thousand-degree pipe; it's gon' be blistered to all hell,"

Stubborn, as always, Ezekiel didn't lower the injured extremity from where it was being cradled to his chest. Jacob groaned.

"Come on dude, at least lemme wrap it up, stop ya gettin' an infection or somethin',"

Ezekiel glanced a look over his shoulder, catching only briefly the way that Stone was holding up a roll of bandage. He let out a long exhale, and, slowly, turned around to extend his hand to the man in front of him. The sharp intake of breath Stone took was audible, and the pity he held for the thief was almost palpable. Ezekiel sighed.

"It's not as bad as it looks. Just wrap it up so we can figure out our next move,"

Whether the expression on Jacob's face when he walked away was one of sympathy or one of longing, Ezekiel couldn't be sure, but he doubted it would matter soon. They'd made progress, which meant they were about to make a mistake - Jacob wouldn't remember patching him up anyway

_Loop 74_

_"It's safer for you like this. For all of you."_

The confused expressions of his fellow teammates stabbed at his gut as he stepped away from the glass window. He'd locked them in an empty office, or maybe it was a storeroom, he didn't know anymore. All he knew was that he had to keep them safe while he found the way out.

"Ezekiel," Cassandra started, tapping a pale, delicate knuckle on the cool pane of glass. "Ezekiel you have to let us out, this is _crazy_ ,"

A pang hit him at the remark. The loop was driving him insane, he already knew, but to have his friends- his family- say it out loud? It stung him more than any burn he had gained in the previous 73 loops. Or was it 72? No, definitely 73. He was losing count- he didn't want to. He had this strange fear that if he lost count, he'd lose himself too.

"It's the only way," he whispered, voice hoarse and cracking with unshed tears. "I can't keep you safe. This is the only way, I'm sorry,"

And, with the calls of his family scratching in his ears like a chisel on a chalkboard, Ezekiel ran. Down the corridor, away from the rage people, towards the centre of the facility.

_Loop two-hundred-and-something_

Ezekiel had lost track of the loops. The tallies marked on his arms had taken up every available space, and the slits his jeans offered at his knees weren't exactly spacious. Too busy figuring out how to escape, the number had slipped his mind. It was more than two hundred- that much he knew. His stomach churned with every step he took away from the glowing blue door. It was a videogame- he knew that now, at least. He could stock up on medkits and weapons- and had somewhere to put the Thaumatite when he went to collect it, but grabbing the stone meant putting his hand on that god awful pipe again. He could still feel the heat from the last hundred times radiating off his yet-to-be-tarnished palm. 

_Loop two-fifty-ish... probably._

_"Jones? Hey, breathe, it's alright,"_

God, this was so stupid- so- so pathetic. All he did was drop the fucking crowbar. 

In catching his breath after the fight to get to the front gate, Jake's crowbar had slipped through his fingers, clattering on the ground with a sharp metallic ring. It was like he was being sentenced to death: the ring setting everything in motion. The fresh air around him was rank with the smell of pennies- of blood; he could taste it, the acid-sour tang of fear and death. Screams rang in his ears, begging him to help, no, run, no, get them out. The skies darkened, dimming to the darkness of unlit corridors- dingy, suffocatingly close. His eyes strained against it, only adding fuel to the fire pounding at the edge of his skull, and, as his legs buckled beneath him, he sank to his knees

"Ezekiel, come on, breathe buddy," Jake said quietly, his gravelly voice strangely soothing against the grating ringing in Ezekiel's ears. "Am I okay to touch you?" 

It only registered that Stone asked a question when Ezekiel saw an expectant look through the blurring of his vision. He nodded once, twice, and then- so incredibly gently- Jacob's hands found Ezekiel's upper arms, gripping carefully: reassuringly firm, calmingly gentle. "You're okay. There's nothing happening right now- you're safe... we're safe," 

Ezekiel could hear the words, but they weren't sinking in- dissolving against his too-hot skin like sugar in water. 

"Breathe with me, Jones. Breathe in for four- one... two...three...four- that's good, now hold it for seven, good, that's good, keep going, and now out for eight seconds," 

He did as he was told, the burning in his chest as his guide. in for four, hold for seven, out for eight. 

"Good, again," 

Four, seven, eight. Stone was murmuring encouragements all the while, his low voice settling in Ezekiel's spine, calming the tremors that wracked his body. He felt shaky still - the deep breaths he was taking coming through in rattling bouts - but the cotton-stuffed feeling in his brain was clearing away, smell and sight coming back to him. The sickening taste in the back of his mouth had lessened, still (regrettably) present, but the intensity had dissipated somewhat. 

_'When did he get so good at this?'_ Ezekiel couldn't help but ask himself. Sure Stone helped Cassandra with her spirals, but when did he get so proficient in calming anxiety? 

As the tail end of the attack subsided, a fiery ache settled itself into Ezekiel's muscles. It felt like the beginnings of a heart attack, but there was no pain in his chest, and it was all across his shoulders too. Not a heart attack, so... what was it? It wasn't like Ezekiel was exactly a pro with handling anxiety aftercare, he'd only started getting them once he passed the two-hundred-ish-most-likely-probably mark. They were an inconvenience- a weakness that had caused multiple restarts and multiple deaths. He was lucky that this one caught him in a spot where he wasn't fighting for his life. 

"Y'alright?" Jake asked (because of course he would ask, Ezekiel just broke down in front of the whole team for - well, for them at least- the first time ever. It would be stupid not to), face open and inquisitive. 

Too afraid that his voice would betray him, Ezekiel nodded, slumping back against the wall he had staggered against. Panic attacks were exhausting, to say the least. 

"When did ya start getting panic attacks, Jones?" 

He didn't quite know how to answer that. When did he start? Was it at two hundred loops or two-fourteen? Or was it two-twenty-five? He didn't know anymore. He'd lost count, and in it was losing the answers to the questions everyone had- including himself. 

So quietly, a whisper barely audible to the historian before him, he murmured "I've lost count," 

_It was another thirty loops onwards since the panic attack Stone had helped him with. Ezekiel guessed it was somewhere around the 275 mark._

He'd seen a different side to each of his teammates- Cassandra's surprising strength, and Eve's fearful actions. Jacob stood out the most though. He'd been the same man to push every single one of Ezekiel's buttons ( _"Some master thief!"_ ), but upon discovering the worn, war-torn person the video game had turned Ezekiel into, he softened. A prickly approach was replaced with a gentle stare. The usual arrogance was instead usurped by a respectful ear, listening to Ezekiel's knowledge of the DARPA facility. 

The most noticeable change, though, was how Stone _looked_ at Ezekiel. The cold, calculating stare that oftentimes bore into the back of his head had turned to an unreadable expression- teetering on the edge between affection and respect. It was... bright, for lack of a better term. Warm, even. 

The real surprise happened later, five or so loops later, in fact, when one of those monsters barrelled into Ezekiel, slamming him into a bent pipeline. He felt the sharp metal piercing his skin, slicing through him like a knife through butter. The agony was strangely muted- like he was watching it happen from afar. The signature sound of ripping fabric met the icy chill that was running through his core, and when he looked down, he could hardly say he was surprised to see a sharp metal pole sticking out of his midriff. His shirt was caked with a syrupy scarlet, caking his abdomen and covering the pipe too. He groaned, eyes rolling at the cruelty of it all. It was the furthest they'd gotten, a new area of the facility- another way out. Him dying now would cause another reset- another explanation, another bout of doubt towards him and his abilities. Another 

Slowly, and with great pain, Ezekiel slid off the piece of pipe, slumping to the floor pathetically. His legs wouldn't take his weight, and the crimson flower in his shirt was blossoming much faster than he would have liked. 

"No, nonono- Jones- shit-" Jacob stuttered, sinking to his knees beside him. "You're okay, Jones, you're okay- fuck there's so much blood- BAIRD GET OVER HERE!" 

With an apologetic look, Jake shifted Ezekiel to lean against him- back against Stone's chest- and pressed his hands over the wound in Ezekiel's abdomen. The thief cried out, hands scrabbling at Jake's wrists, eyes clenched shut in agony. 

"You're goin' to be okay Jones. You're gonna be just fine," 

Ezekiel gave a weak smile. "Of course I will- it all restarts, remember?" He tried to laugh, choking on his breath when flecks of crimson dot his lips. Great- he really was going to die. And not even quickly. 

"No, not this time, it can't restart this time- it- I- I won't remember this version of you, Ezekiel," 

Ezekiel grinned- although it came out more like a grimace- and wrapped a bloody hand around Jacob's forearm. "Not goin' soft on me now, are you Cowboy? You know I remember everything that happens-" A round of coughs wracked Ezekiel's body, shaking his frame and causing him to convulse. Blood splattered onto his chin, a stream of it forming at the corner of his lip. The indignity of it all- he was kind of glad nobody except him would remember this. 

Somewhere along the lines of his slow, painful death Baird and Cassandra joined Jacob, kneeling at Ezekiel's sides so he was well boxed in by the people he called his family. Cassandra had tears spilling down rosy cheeks, and Baird looked like she was about to follow suit, silvery eyes glistening with unshed tears. He'd loathe to think what Jake looked like- the man was a wreck when he cried. ( _"Of course Lassie makes me cry! That wonderful dog dies nearly every damn episode!"_ )

He smiled, placing his free hand on Baird's own, and giving it a gentle squeeze. 

"Don't-" _hack-_ "worry," he sputtered, glancing between them. His hand never left Stone's arm, thumb making comforting circles on the skin left exposed by his shirt. "I'll-" _cough-_ "be fine. See you lot-" a hefty amount of blood splattered over his chin and chest, catching on Stone's sleeve on its way. He didn't finish his sentence, the crushing weight of sleep settling over him. His eyes flickered closed, and he barely felt the ghost of a kiss being pressed to his forehead before he was falling through the back door again, landing back in the one place he hated most. 

_The last loop_

He'd done it. Despite everything, he'd gotten them out of the game. 

Almost. 

With just the rift to jump, Ezekiel pulled out a grenade, practically beaming at Stone with the trademark Jones Mischievous Grin. His left hand still out of action (the medkit having to come into use to save Cassandra from a near amputation), he tossed and caught the grenade in his right hand, a warm-up to the throw he would need to use to get them across the gap.

"Any of you ever tried a rocket jump?" 

Eve went first. Jump, throw, explode, and stick the landing. Perfectly executed- as she always worked

Then it was Cassandra. Physics correction in tow- as she always had. Jump, hold, throw, and stick the landing. 

And then came Jacob. Soft-smiled, gentle-handed forehead-kissing Jacob Stone, Boy Wonder of the arts. Ezekiel took the grenade from the rucksack and shoved it in his back pocket, dropping the bag to his feet with a soft metallic thud. The game was crashing around them now- it was now or never for what Ezekiel wanted to do. Glancing to his side, he nodded at Jacob, catching his attention. 

"Ready, Cowboy?" 

Jake nodded. "Ready." 

"Good," Ezekiel retorted, grabbing Jake by the collar of his shirt and tugging him into a fiery kiss that said everything Ezekiel could never find the words for. Jake stood stunned for all of half a second, before melting into it, placing his hands on Ezekiel's hips with a finality that reverberated in Ezekiel's spine. 

The ground beneath them shook- literally, not a romantic metaphor- and Ezekiel pulled away, putting a hand flat on Jacob's chest. 

"Stone?"

"Uh-" he uttered intelligently, "Uhm, yes- yeah?"

Ezekiel grinned. "If we get out of here, take me on a date sometime," he murmured, pressing one last kiss to Jacob' lips. With that, he stepped away, pulling the grenade from his pocket and pulling the pin. 

"Ready?" 

"Always." 

Jump, hold, throw, and stick the landing. 

He'd done it. He'd gotten everyone safe. After hundreds of tries- he'd finally completed the time loop.

"Okay, Jones!" Baird called, "Now you!" 

"If you throw the grenade in front of you, the blast will carry you across!" Cassandra added, helpful and cheery as always. 

He smiled- honest, warm, and sincere. Picking up the bag, he upturned it, and, when nothing fell out, he could practically feel the look of shocked horror on his team's faces. 

"None for me, actually. But that's okay-" he voice wavered on the last syllable, giving him away, " 'Cause I saved you. All of you. And now..." the floor shook from beneath him, making him stumble as he edged towards the ledge of the rift, "Now I get to end the game."

He took a step forward.

"Control"

and another. 

"Alt." 

and, with a foot hovering over the rift, Ezekiel grinned at the other librarians, saluting at Baird for what may have been the last time. 

"Delete." 

And with that, he jumped. Throwing himself into the rift as the game frazzled out of reality. It was like icy fire, tearing his body limb from limb, cell from cell. Hot, white light burned behind his eyelids and invisible hands clawed at his skin, shredding him into fragments of who he was, pixels of the man that had entered the game. 

And he shattered. 

* * *

The first thing he registered was a burning agony- everywhere, all over him, in his head, in his chest, in his limb. In every inch of his being, he felt it. It was like he'd been set ablaze. 

But he was alive. 

Forcing his eyes open, Ezekiel saw stars; white sunspots pulling at his vision that quickly dissipated to reveal the very laboratory he had just escaped from. 

_no_

Voices, distraught, breaking, whispered kindnesses only shared in the case of a deceased loved on. Ezekiel had heard them enough times to know what they sounded like. Groaning, he sat up, eyes darting around to find the threat or the body or the cause of the grief. 

Nothing. Just him and his teammates and the DARPA lab he had grown to resent. 

"Ugh, fuck. Word of the wise: never throw yourself into a quantum superposition rift. It hurts like a bitch," 

To his surprise, several exclamations of his name met his statement, and before he could register what was happening: thin but wiry arms wound around him, squeezing him so tightly it felt like he was going to break. 

"Ezekiel!" squeaked Cassandra, holding him in her death-grip, "You're okay!" 

"Cass..." he wheezed, trying to pry her arms off of him, but failing miserably (She _did_ have his arms clamped down by his sides, and he _had_ just gone through a quantum rift - cut him some slack), "Can't... breathe..." 

She released him in a snap, apologies tumbling from her lips like a waterfall. He smiled, waving her off with a gentle 'it's okay, Cass'. 

Baird was next, pulling him into a tight- although weak in comparison to Cassandra's- hug and murmuring angry scolds into his hair (He would be more intimidated by them if she didn't sound like she was trying not to sob, though). She stepped away, eyeing him up and down to check for any injuries, and by the relieved look on her face, he assumed there was nothing out of the ordinary- aside from the burn still residing on his palm.

 _'I gu_ _ess quantum rifts don't heal wounds,'_ he thought bitterly. Not that bitterly though. Okay, a little bitterly. Quite. A lot. He was currently ignoring the fact that he was lucky to be alive at all in favour of being bitter about the burn on his hand. It wasn't like the library could fix him up in no time, not at all. 

When Baird fell silent and went to stand by Cassandra, Jake was staring at the ground with such an intent you'd think he'd've discovered Ancient Sumerian texts in the laminate. Ezekiel huffed, shaking his head. Cowboys- what are you gonna do with 'em. 

"Oi, Stone, I can guarantee that as busted as I may be right now, I'm a damn sight prettier than the floor, mate," 

A smile crinkled at Jacob's eyes and he looked up to meet Ezekiel's gaze. "Classic Jones. Conceited as always," 

"Oh, you bet," he teased, curling his index finger to beckon Stone closer, "Come 'ere, Cowboy," 

Slowly, Jake stepped forward, stopping a few centimetre's distance from where Ezekiel was perched, one leg up on the ledge he was previously laying on, the other holding him steady from where he had sat up. The thief raised a single, perfect brow, and wordlessly, Jake sank on one knee so he was level with Ezekiel, forearm resting on his raised thigh. 

Ezekiel smiled softly, resting his non-wrapped hand on his forearm. His thumb brushed gently across the skin at his wrist, and, slowly- painfully slowly, his hand crept up to rest on Jacob's neck. "Y'know Cowboy, I believe you owe me a date," 

He chuckled. "I guess I do. How about Paris? The Louvre has a new Monet you could steal," 

Ezekiel hummed, wrapping his arms around Jake's neck oh-so-lightly. "Bold of you to assume I haven't already stolen it and sold it off to the very museum you're talking about,"

Jake leaned back, eyes wide. "You stole _another_ Monet?! Seriously, Jones? Do you have no shame?" 

Laughing, Ezekiel tightened the loop of his arms, mumbling an endearing _'shut up and kiss me, cowboy'_ , wrapping them both in a kiss reminiscent of the one they shared in the superposition. 

And if, when they returned to the library, Ezekiel dragged him to the most unfrequented stacks in the library for a few hours, well, that was their business, wasn't it?


End file.
